Take Me Out
by Trumpet-Geek
Summary: [misawa] a halloween fic no one asked for. "He swallows audibly, throat clicking dryly, and slowly, very slowly, turns around to face his death."


**Take Me Out**

 _By_ : TG

 _Summary_ : He swallows audibly, throat clicking dryly, and slowly, very slowly, turns around to face his death.

 _Disclaimer_ : I don't own daiya.

 _Warnings_ : bad puns, implied sex

AN: A Halloween fic no one asked for inspired by akutsulovesdan's encouragement (so you can blame her when you finish reading it and realize you just wasted like 15 minutes of your day lol). Mostly, I just really wanted to punch Miyuki in the face and this seemed like a good way to make that happen.

Also, sorry for the R. Kelly joke.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Katie Casey was baseball mad, had the fever and had it bad." -Jack Northworth and Albert von Tilzer _, Take Me Out to the Ball Game_

* * *

Everything is fine. That's what Eijun has been telling himself for the last ten minutes, anyway. He doesn't know if its true or not but everything. is. _fine_.

Ahead of them someone screams and Eijun jumps, trembling fingers reaching out to cling at the sleeve of Wakana's baseball uniform.

He knows he's being ridiculous but he can't help it. Haunted houses are scary as fuck.

"Eijun for gods sake," Wakana says, exasperated. Eijun clings closer and makes a pathetic whining sound.

"Baseball aces shouldn't be this wimpy," Nobu chimes in unhelpfully.

"Shut uAHHHHHH!"

"Eijun it's literally just a dark room. There's nothing happening yet."

"Those sound like famous last words," Eijun points out. His heart is in his throat but he allows them to lead him through the house anyway, too nervous to turn back now.

"Eijun -" Wakana starts. She sounds annoyed, but he doesn't hear anything that follows because he is suddenly aware of something moving behind him, very quietly.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he freezes, absolutely terrified as his fingers go lax and fall from their grip in Wakana's jersey. He watches her and Nobu move on without him and feels a bit like crying. There is someone behind him, a warm, solid presence at his back that presses closer, and then a puff of damp breath against the back of his neck.

He swallows audibly, throat clicking dryly, and slowly, very slowly, turns around to face his death.

"Boo."

Eijun shrieks and does the only thing he thinks of to protect himself -he punches the scary pirate right in his scary pirate face.

"I hit a haunted house employee."

"Relax, Eijun."

"I can't believe I just -"

"It's _okay_ -"

"THE FIRST RULE OF GOING TO A HAUNTED HOUSE IS TO NOT HIT THE EMPLOYEES WAKANA."

"I always thought the first rule was to not piss yourself but you cleared that one last year."

"That was an accident -"

" _Obviously_ -"

"-that you promised to never bring up again!"

"Oh my god? I thought that was just a joke. Seriou -"

"Shut up Nobu."

"Maybe we should have dressed you up as R Kelly."

"STOP."

"Okay, okay!" Nobu said, hands raised in defense. The corner of his mouth twitches and Eijun's glare turns sour. "Well, we're gonna go to the convenience store while you're waiting for your _knock-out_. Anything you want?"

"He's not my -! Ugh never mind. No. You heathens."

"Okay, we'll be back," Wakana throws over her shoulder. "Stay out of trouble."

Eijun watches them disappear around the corner, the sound of their banter slipping under the manufactured screams and creepy music coming from the haunted house's outdoor speakers.

"'Stay out of trouble' my ass," He snarks under his breath. He doesn't dare say that to Wakana's face though.

He thinks maybe he should go inside, but the cool air does wonders for his burning cheeks so he stays, slumped against the side of the house. His eyes stay glued to the street corner but he's not really seeing anything, too caught up in the hot flashes of embarrassment and the guilt that simmers away in his stomach.

His friends are never going to let him live this down.

So he stands there, staring off into space, and absolutely does _not_ notice the crowd of people slowly leaking out of the haunted house, nor does he notice the music cutting off as the night comes to an end. What he _does_ notice, however, is the feeling of warm, damp breath and a "boo" whispered so quietly it might as well have been insinuated into his ear.

He shrieks and jumps upward and sideways like a cat, hand coming up to clutch at the fabric over his chest as his blood pounds in his ears. He faintly registers laughter -a unique and barking "hyaha" and a low smoke-curl chuckle that sounds like its made of pure sin.

"Wha- wh?" Eijun really needs his heart to slow down so he can form complete sentences, but he thinks maybe that might have to do more with the level of attractiveness of the two boys standing in front of him than it does fear. "Who -?"

The one with the hyena laugh laughs harder, practically doubled over with a hand on his friends shoulder for balance. Eijun's recovered enough to shoot him a frown, but the boy's eyes are closed and only his friend sees it.

"Hey Kuramochi," he says, and Eijun's knees go a little weak at the melted-chocolate quality of his voice. Oh dear. That's definitely the same voice as the man he punched earlier. Ooooh dear. He says some more stuff, stuff Eijun isn't paying attention to because his voice is so nice it's kind of ridiculous, but whatever he says sends hyena-boy away, leaving just the two of them. Alone.

Oh _dear_.

Eijun can already tell that this boy is trouble. It's in the way his sharp white teeth peek out from behind curled lips, in the way his artfully messy hair falls into his eyes like a curtain. He's tall and fit and _gorgeous_ and Eijun's mouth practically waters at the way his jeans sit tight against his thighs (are those _painted_ on?) and the way he absent-mindedly shoves the sleeves of his hoody up his forearms as he speaks.

And oh god what nice forearms he has.

He's distracted from his not so secret gaping by a hand waving in his face. He looks up and comes face to face (har har) with the most devastating pretty one he's ever seen.

"Hey kid, you okay?"

Shit.

Eijun flusters under that molten fools gold gaze.

"Uh."

"Eloquent."

"Shut up."

The boy throws his head back and laughs, and Eijun has to look away before a set of pretty collarbones and tanned skin can distract him again. Fuck.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Okay well it's definitely not ' _kid_.'"

The boy grins at him and he scowls, but his eyes land on the budding bruise blossoming over the sharp ridge of his cheek and he's reminded of why he's here in the first place, as annoying as this stranger is. He uncrosses his arms and sighs. "Sawamura Eijun."

The boy in front of him smiles -a true, genuine smile, and says, "You have a nice left hook, Sawamura Eijun."

The flush creeps over Eijun's cheeks before he can stop it. He likes the way his name falls from his lips, even if it's kind of creepy that he's complimenting his fighting skills.

"Yeah well. Your face is like a freakin' brick wall, I think you broke my hand -?" Eijun trails off; the stranger hadn't given his name yet.

"Miyuki Kazuya," he supplies, hiding a grin behind his hand.

"Right. Miyuki."

"Miyuki- _senpai_."

" _Miyuki_. Sorry about...all of this," Eijun says. He _is_ sorry, but he also wasn't lying -he hasn't punched anyone since his delinquent middle school years and his hand is _aching_. He shakes it out a bit behind his back but Miyuki's eyes catch the motion anyway.

"Wanna come to my place? I have some ice. I can _take care of you_."

Something in the tone of Miyuki's voice sets Eijun on fire. He splutters a bit, floundering, and he knows the bastard is laughing at him, can see it in his eyes. Jerk. But despite Eijun's annoyance he finds himself stepping away from the house to fall in beside him.

"So, what are you supposed to be?" Miyuki asks, bumping shoulders playfully.

"Baseball player, obviously."

"Obviously," he drawls. The sound makes Eijun want to simultaneously rip his clothes off and punch him. Again. "I mean, what position?"

"I'm the ace of course!"

"Oh? Pitcher, hm. What if I told you I'm a _catcher_."

"REALLY? Will you play catch with me?!"

"...god its a good thing you're cute."

"Hey!"

Miyuki leans in close, arm slung across his shoulders and lips brushing against Eijun's ear. "I'm not that kind of catcher, but I'm definitely interested in catching _your_ pitches, _partner_."

Eijun pauses and then grins, trapping Miyuki's wrist in the circle of his fingers. "Mmhm. I hope you're ready, Miyuki Kazuya. I only throw _fastballs_."

"Oh? Is that a yes?"

He turns his face and brushes his lips against the purple forming on Miyuki's cheek, listens to the sigh that fans out against his face.

"Mmhm, how can I resist? You're a _knock-out_."

Miyuki laughs and pulls them into a slow gait, arm trailing down his shoulders to find his waist. As they reach the corner they pass by Wakana and Nobu and he gives them a jaunty wink.

* * *

 **Kuramochi OMAKE**

"Is he leaving with the guy he punched?"

"Yep."

"...amazing."

Wakana stares off after her childhood best friend and his new _buddy_ , rolling her eyes when Eijun's hand slips down to grab the stranger's ass. "Well they're definitely being discreet."

"It's _Eijun_ , what do you expect?" Nobu laughs.

"A little more good-hearted ignorance," Wakana mumbles. _Honestly_.

They start across the street, heading for the nearest underground station, when Wakana accidentally bumps into a handsome boy crossing her path.

"Oh! Sorry!" he says. He gives her a double take and grins. "Or maybe I'm _not_ sorry. Hi. I'm Kuramochi."

Wakana rolls her eyes but puts her hand in his outstretched one, flushing in spite of herself when he brings it up to his lips.

"I'm Wakana."

"Pretty name," the boy murmurs against the back of her hand. She flushes all the way down her neck.

"And I'm going home by myself, aren't I."

"Shut up Nobu."

* * *

 **Miyuki OMAKE**

"Mmn, _fuck_."

If Kazuya hadn't just come, the gravelly husk of Eijun's voice would've had him curling his toes. He sounds _so good_ , exhausted and satisfied, and Kazuya rewards him with a brush of his lips against a sweat-slicked shoulder. The boy in his bed sighs and brings a hand up to curl loosely in Kazuya's hair, to bring him level to Eijun's mouth so they can kiss properly.

"You weren't kidding," Kazuya murmurs, grinning at the damp hitch of Eijun's breath against his lips.

"'Bout what?"

"About you pitching fastballs."

"Fuuuuck." This time it's just this side of exasperated, and he turns his head into the crook of Eijun's neck to hide his fond grin. Really, he shouldn't be this smitten with a kid he just met, and _especially_ not with a kid who just punched him in the fucking _face_ , but. He busies himself with running a hand over the naked skin of Eijun's side instead, so he doesn't have to think about it.

Eijun's skin is so pretty, so tan and warm and smooth, faint silvery lines of childhood recklessness like a pattern of spiderwebs and small freckles like stars. So pretty. He leans down to kiss what he can reach, the jut of Eijun's collarbones and the flat plane of his chest. Eijun hums and strokes through his hair and down, cradling his jaw with calloused fingers and a steady hand. Kazuya makes a sound in his throat and nearly flinches back when those fingers press a little too harshly against the delicate bruise on his cheek, and Eijun frowns.

"Sorry again. About punching you. I didn't -I mean. Um."

Kazuya catches his fingers in his (long, slender _pitcher's_ fingers) and looks up at Eijun through his lashes, heartbeat speeding up in his chest. "It's fine, just. Don't go around punching any other haunted house employees, okay? I might get jealous."

The affronted look Eijun gives him makes him throw his head back and laugh.

"As it is, I think you owe me."

"What else do you want, I said I was sorry!"

Kazuya squeezes his hand and kisses Eijun's chin to appease him.

"Another round," he purrs. "And later you can take me out on a date. Savvy?"

Eijun's face flushes and Kazuya swallows around the urge to sing _take me out to the ball game..._

 _I dont care if we never get back._

* * *

 **Sawamura OMAKE**

"Wait, weren't you wearing a costume in the house?"

"Mmhm."

"Where is it? You didn't come out with it."

"Isn't it a little late to ask about that? It's been a whole day you know."

"Indulge me."

"Okay, I left it. Didn't need you coming after my booty haha!"

"I don't think leaving your costume is gonna prevent that."

"..."

Eijun feels the heat radiating off of his face and decides that the cafe menu is _much_ more interesting than the slow curl of Miyuki's lips across the table from him.

Oh dear.

He _really_ needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.

* * *

AN: Follow me at kuramisawa or trumpet-geek on tumblr for more crak!


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